


spending all my time

by naktoms



Category: Blindspot (TV)
Genre: F/M, im gonna cry yall i love oscar so much, oscar-centric
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-17
Updated: 2016-05-17
Packaged: 2018-06-08 22:57:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 877
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6878251
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/naktoms/pseuds/naktoms
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Oscar still doesn't understand, and God he wishes he did.</p>
            </blockquote>





	spending all my time

**Author's Note:**

> Joscar Feels™
> 
> yall im so scared that oscar is dying tonight so i had to get this out of my system in preparation for Teh Criez  
> i... really enjoyed writing this. catch me writing more fic next week after the finale bye
> 
> kudos + comments are appreciated!! i hope u enjoy!!

Oscar doesn’t understand, and he still doesn’t. He doesn’t understand why Taylor gives him her ring back, tells him it’s over, leaves the house and doesn’t come back again until that night. He doesn’t understand and he wishes he did, because maybe he could fix it.

The next day, Taylor is back to herself, all smiles as they work over finalities in their next mission-- the mission that’s taking Taylor from them (from Oscar). Oscar can barely look at her.

Oscar doesn’t get to talk to Taylor before they whisk her away for final preparations. Taylor created the plan herself and she hasn’t told Oscar much about it (hasn’t told him the point, hasn’t told him the gain of pushing him away and telling him she doesn’t love him--) besides what he’s supposed to do afterwards.

As a result, Oscar spends the next months wondering because there is nothing else to do. The group won’t take on anything else of notable magnitude while _this_ is happening, because this is Taylor’s magnum opus, the culmination of everything she could have thought up and planned and dreamed of. And Oscar still doesn’t get the fucking point.

He wonders about life, why he’s here, why he joined them, why he fell in love with Taylor, why his chest hurts. He wonders about her, what she’s doing, what she must be thinking at the FBI, questioned and poked and prodded. He wonders about when exactly his life began revolving around such a cold, desolate universe of a woman.

 

Oscar sees her again and he realizes something: Taylor Shaw is dead. Not physically, of course-- those are her brown eyes, her sharp jawline and slender limbs-- but she is not the same on the inside. Oscar didn’t get how drastic of a change it would be, but, well, it’s too late for that now.

Oscar does everything like he’s supposed to and he get used to calling her Jane because her shoulders tense and she looks away like she’s guilty when he calls her Taylor. He smiles back when she grins at him and answers the questions she asks, like he’s _supposed to_. All according to plan.

“I had a dream about you,” Jane says.

“Really, now.”

“We were together, weren’t we?” she asks, and it hurts. Oscar nods silently. “Ah.” A pause, then, “What were we like?”

“Hm?”

“What… I don’t know, what kind of couple were we?”

Oscar has to think. It seems like an eternity ago, when Jane’s hair still hung long and she still held his hand without a care in the world. Memories pop up in his mind, snapshots of scenes and residual emotion. He sighs and settles on, “We got up early and ate toast together, and you liked to… you liked to hit me with your hair.”

Jane snickers behind her hand. “It was long, right? I can believe that, I’d do it now if it wasn’t short.”

“For the record, you look good either way,” Oscar says nonchalantly, and he sees the way Jane bristles. Fuck.

Jane pushes through with awkward smiles and asks, then, “What do you do, now?”

“I wait,” Oscar replies with little thought. “I have things I have to do for this plan, so I wait for when I’m supposed to do them. … And sometimes I drop by the Chinese buffet, just because.”

“Is that all you eat? Greasy takeout?”

 _Seeing as I don’t have you to supervise me in the kitchen anymore, yes_. “Yeah, for the most part. Lame, I know, sorry.”

Jane shakes her head. “No, me too. I eat a lot of delivery… sometimes Weller takes me out to eat, or I come over to his house. He’s a pretty good cook.”

“I am too, but there’s just this looming threat of me burning down the house,” Oscar says with a grin, and his heart beats a little faster when Jane grins back. “Maybe we should have some takeout together one day, huh?”

Jane seems to think for a long time, and it is again apparent that there is a chasm between them. Then, she nods. “Sure. Make sure you get me some spring rolls.”

Oscar smiles, softer this time. “Of course.” _Her favorite_.

 

Oscar doesn’t know why the hell he kissed her. It should be all business between them (even though that sentiment got blown out the window several weeks ago) and Oscar shouldn’t want this. He should break away, tell her this is wrong, tell her she’s not the same.

 _Oh god, but she is,_ Oscar thinks with his hands on her hips, mouth on her throat, feeling her chest rise and fall beneath his. She is still the same, somewhere deep inside, and Oscar feels like he needs to grab hold of her before she is gone for good.

So, for a little while, Oscar can close his eyes and pretend they are back at home, pretend they are still engaged, pretend that they’re looking at marriage in three months. It makes it hurt worse when he opens his eyes and sees the ink etched into her skin, proof that her plan is in full effect, that she is no longer his. And if Jane notices the tears in his eyes, she doesn’t comment.


End file.
